


Caged

by MoonytheMarauder1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Break Up, F/M, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Painting, Rain, Young James Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonytheMarauder1/pseuds/MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: She may love James, but Narcissa isn't like Andromeda—she'll choose her family over her heart every time.
Relationships: Narcissa Black Malfoy/James Potter
Kudos: 27





	Caged

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, y'all! I wrote this ages ago on ffn. Fun fact: this is actually one of my NOTPs, but I wrote it for a challenge... I ship it a little now? So cool? Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy. :)
> 
> (Did I take liberties with the Blacks' appearances? Yes, yes I did.)

"I'm so proud of you, Narcissa."

Narcissa Black flinched at her mother's words, but she stared steadily ahead. "Thank you, Mother."

Druella's black eyes were unusually soft. "You've become quite the young woman." Druella dragged the hairbrush through her youngest daughter's blonde hair. "You and Lucius make a lovely match. I'm sure the two of you will be very happy together."

Fresh tears welled up in Narcissa's eyes at the reminder of to whom she was about to be married. She blinked them away quickly before her mother noticed.

Lucius was not the man she wanted to be waiting for her at the end of the aisle. His hair was too long, too light, and his posture was much too rigid.

But she couldn't say any of that.

"I'm sure he'll make a fine husband," she managed.

Druella smiled with approval. "He will. I'm excellent at sensing this sort of thing, you know. You two will click in no time."

Narcissa wanted to rage and scream and protest that _no_ , her mother _wasn't_ good at this, but she held her tongue. That was not the person she'd been raised to be. So she leaned into her mother's touch, despite the fact that the older woman's hands repulsed her.

"Two more hours," she said softly.

"Two more hours," Druella agreed.

Narcissa tried to keep her heart from breaking.

* * *

_The sorting hat fell over Narcissa's eyes, and she tried to quell the excitement bubbling up within her. Mother said that a good lady never showed her emotions; not in public, at least. And here, on a stool in front of the entirety of Hogwarts, she was most definitely not alone._

_The sorting hat whispered in her ear—about loyalty and bravery, two traits Narcissa didn't think she possessed._

" _I'm not either of those things," she thought back._

" _No?" The sorting hat seemed to be amused by her, and she felt irritation prickling her skin. "I think you would be surprised. But very well—if not Gryffindor, where shall I put you?"_

_Horror enveloped Narcissa; Gryffindor should not be an option. She was ambitious, and she believed in the values of Salazar Slytherin._

_Sounding very nearly disappointed, the sorting hat shouted out its answer. "SLYTHERIN!"_

_There were cheers, and Narcissa quickly removed the offending object from her head, wrinkling her nose at its battered appearance. She hurried over to the Slytherin table, beyond relieved, and sat by her sisters' side._

_Once the feast had ended, Narcissa stood, eager to turn in for the night. On her way out the doors, she bumped into someone who was trying to run past her._

" _Hey!" She glared at the messy-haired Gryffindor boy who didn't have the decency to look contrite. "Watch where you're going!"_

_The boy glanced over to her, his glasses glinting in the candlelight. He peered at her closely. "You're a Black," he realized, his hazel eyes growing wide._

_She frowned sharply. "Of course I am," she snapped. He was making her nervous; his was the house she had narrowly escaped, and she didn't like the reminder of how close she'd come to disappointing her family. "Who are_ you?"

_The boy puffed out his chest. "James Potter," he said proudly._

_A Potter, then. A blood traitor. Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "That isn't much to be proud of," she snapped and was about to turn on her heel and stalk away when Potter spoke once more._

" _Shows what you know. You're in for a nasty shock one day, if you think your blood is going to protect you." He opened his mouth to continue, but someone called his name. He didn't even spare her a glance as he ran off to his friends._

_Narcissa bristled, but she couldn't help but be affected by Potter's words._

* * *

"You're quiet, darling," Druella said after a moment. "I'd have thought you'd be more excited on your wedding day."

There was a note of warning in her voice, causing Narcissa to stiffen. She knew she had to keep her mother far away from the truth, so she shot the older woman a timid smile.

"I'm a bit nervous," she pretended to admit. "This is a big day, Mother—I don't want anything to go wrong."

Druella brushed a long strand of midnight-black hair behind her ear as she regarded her daughter. Narcissa couldn't help but note the strong differences between her mother and herself. Druella possessed the almond skin tone of the Rosiers, whereas Narcissa was as pale as her father's family. Bellatrix was also fair; Andromeda had inherited the darker tones of their mother's family.

In fact, everything about Druella was dark and beautiful—her hair, her eyes, her heart… Andromeda had inherited their mother's physicalities, Bellatrix shared her dark heart, and Narcissa… was the opposite of her mother in every way. It had made their relationship strained, to say the least.

But now… she was finally making her mother proud. And that should have been enough.

"Narcissa, darling, when have I ever let anything go wrong?"

 _Andromeda,_ Narcissa wanted to scream. She'd already lost her middle daughter… and nearly Narcissa herself.

She forced a smile on her face. "You're right, of course, Mother."

* * *

_Narcissa, now thirteen, bit her lip as she tried to keep the tears at bay. It was stupid to be crying, but she felt like she was losing her family. Bellatrix was growing so distant, Andromeda kept disappearing, and her parents didn't have much time for their third daughter._

_She wanted to feel seen, but there was no one left to look._

_Narcissa bit down too hard, and she tasted blood. She winced, her sky-blue eyes glassy with the tears she wouldn't let herself spill. She was currently in an abandoned classroom, dragging a paintbrush across a small canvas carelessly. It was a hobby her father indulged, and she hadn't been in want of supplies since the start of school._

_Narcissa brought the brush down, creating a streak of blue so dark it could have been black. She'd have to give up the hobby when she married, she'd been warned, but for now she was able to vent her frustrations. It was better than rebelling, like Sirius seemed so fond of doing._

_Narcissa's lip curled at the thought of her cousin. It would be a dark day indeed when he took over as head of the family._

_Just then, the classroom door opened and closed with a slam, startling Narcissa. Her head snapped up to see Potter, his hazel eyes wide and his face flushed, leaning against the door._

" _Potter!" Narcissa clenched her fists. "What are you doing here?"_

" _Shhh!" Potter admonished her. "Be quiet, and be careful. Filch is on his way."_

_Narcissa glowered, but she lowered her voice. "You led Filch here?"_

_Potter shrugged and moved slowly away from the door. "To be fair, I didn't know you were in here."_

_Narcissa turned back to the half-finished canvas, her lips pressed tightly together. "Even if you had known, it wouldn't have stopped you," she said bitterly. "You don't like me."_

_Potter shrugged again. "Can you blame me?"_

_Narcissa grit her teeth. "You think all Slytherins are the same. You just hate them on principle. Someone's house isn't a good reason to condemn them," she snapped._

_Potter's head snapped up quickly, his eyes alight with anger. "Neither is their blood status, but you don't have any problem with killing Muggles and Muggleborns, do you?"_

_Narcissa threw down the paintbrush; she was too wound up now, it wouldn't do anything. "Just because you've lost all your pride—"_

" _Pride!" Potter squawked. "Are you_ proud _of the fact that blood purists like your family have slaughtered hundreds of innocent people for something they can't help?"_

_Narcissa faltered. Potter nodded grimly._

" _It doesn't sound so simple like that, does it?" he asked softly. "It's not so easy when you think of what's really happening. Who's getting hurt."_

_Narcissa's hands were shaking. Her family was enough. Her family told her what was right. She didn't need Potter's misplaced morals, because she knew who she trusted—_

" _If the Blacks weren't purebloods, what would you think of blood purists then?" Potter ran a hand through his messy hair. "The bad guys. That's all you lot are."_

_He seemed sick of her presence; before she could react, he'd checked to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out of the room._

_Narcissa felt frozen on the spot. She had to admit that Potter had a point—they were hurting people, and though she tried, she couldn't think of a proper way to justify that. A Muggleborn had never hurt her, after all, though she'd thrown her fair share of hexes._

_With trembling fingers, she picked the paintbrush off the ground. Try as she might, though, she couldn't get lost in the serenity. The only color that felt right to paint was hazel, and it was that more than anything else that inspired the seed of determination to find out more about how her family and its values were viewed._

_James Potter would give her her answers if she had to squeeze them out of him._

* * *

Druella cupped her daughter's face with her hands, pride glowing on her features.

"My beautiful Narcissa," she said softly. "You truly are a sight." A dark brow lifted mischievously, and a small smile played on her mother's lips. "Lucius is a lucky man."

"Mother!" Narcissa forced out a laugh, but her heart was breaking. She didn't want Lucius to be the lucky one.

But she'd let the man she truly loved slip through her fingers…

Well. That wasn't quite right. She'd practically thrown him away from herself, as though she couldn't be rid of him fast enough. How funny that she regretted that so deeply now.

At Druella's beckoning, Narcissa stood, letting her ceremonial dress robes fall to the ground. Druella fussed with her daughter's hair some more, but it was the house-elf who would really be the one to style it to perfection. Narcissa closed her eyes for a second, painfully aware that the ceremony was drawing ever closer.

Druella pressed her hand against Narcissa's back. "Wedding jitters, dear," she said in a tone softer than Narcissa had ever heard from the older woman. "They'll pass."

The words flowed from Narcissa's throat, unbidden. "What if… what if I don't like him? What if he's awful?"

Druella raised a brow. "You don't need to love him." Ah, there it was—that note of danger Narcissa was so used to hearing. "You are a Black, Narcissa. You know how to rule from the background; I've taught you to pull the strings."

Narcissa didn't want to be the hidden power; she wanted a family, one that loved her. Still, she dipped her head in agreement and let her mother lead her from the room.

As the two women walked through the halls of the manor, Narcissa's eyes were drawn to the display cases and certificates along the walls. Orders of Merlin earned through lying and cheating, vials of poison that ensured victory, Dark magic artifacts that Narcissa had never dared touched—it all reminded her of the fact that they weren't the heroes of the tale.

She was marrying into another murderous family. She'd wasted her chance to escape.

She had the memories, at least, of the person she could have been.

* * *

_Narcissa wasn't quite sure, really, how she'd ended up in the arms of James Potter. They'd grown closer over the last two years, first because of the meetings Narcissa forced upon them, then because they'd discovered they actually enjoyed the other's company. Now they were in a train carriage on their way to their sixth year at Hogwarts, stealing kisses from each other and trying to pretend this wasn't doomed to fail._

" _Shhh," Narcissa teased when James arched his head back and hit it against the compartment door. It was his first time kissing someone, she knew; the knowledge made her heart pound excitedly._

_James cast her an incredulous glance. "It's not my fault," he protested in a low voice. "You're not exactly... less than stunning."_

_Narcissa snorted and kissed him again, giddy at the recklessness she was feeling. When he groaned again just as a group of students was passing by, she pulled away with a stern look on her face._

" _Okay, new theory," she said breathlessly, her fingers buried in his messy black hair. "Maybe we should play so quietly,_ no one can hear us _." She poked him in the chest for emphasis, and James pouted._

" _I'm_ trying _. It's not as easy as you seem to believe." A mischievous grin spread across his face, then, and Narcissa felt a thrill of excitement shoot down her spine. "I suppose I just need more practice." He bent his head so he could whisper in her ear. "Make this a night I'll never forget."_

_Narcissa bit her lip, hard. She could do that. Merlin, she could definitely do that._

* * *

When Narcissa allowed her mother to place a string of diamonds around her neck, she nearly lost her composure. This wasn't what she wanted. She wanted a man who could make her laugh, who liked to dance with her and who wasn't above kissing her in empty classrooms simply because he missed her. She wanted a man with a grin as crooked as his glasses, a man with too-large hands and a talent on the Quidditch Pitch.

She wanted James Potter.

But she was Narcissa Black, and contrary to popular belief, Blacks did not get everything they wanted.

* * *

_The rain was pouring down around them, and lightning flashed in the distance. Narcissa was glad for the rain; it covered the tears running down her cheeks._

" _I'm sorry," she shouted, struggling to be heard over the storm. They were in Hogsmeade, the last one of the year, and most of the students had sought shelter in the shops. They were the only ones left on the street. "But for the record, I knew nothing about this!"_

_James just stared at her, making her feel so, so exposed. "You just said you were getting married!"_

" _It was arranged," Narcissa tried to explain desperately."_

" _Then break it off."_

" _I can't!" She was soaked to the bone, chilled, but she was still gripping the front of his robes in an effort to make him understand. "It's different in my family—I was born to be a certain person, and that person isn't… isn't with you."_

" _No." James grabbed her hands. "No, I can't accept this. I made my choice a long time ago, and I'm never going to leave you. You don't have to be the person they want you to be—the one you are right now is_ beautiful!"

_How such kind words could be so heartbreaking, Narcissa would never know. "You don't understand—"_

" _Just because I don't care," James began angrily, "doesn't mean I don't understand. I'm serious, Narcissa, we don't need them. Anyone who disapproves can stuff it because it's us that matter—"_

" _What about your friends? They'll never approve of me."_

" _Then that's their problem."_

" _We can't do this, James. It's impossible. Let's just—" Narcissa let out a sob. "Can't you just go?"_

" _No!" The torment in his eyes was enough to make Narcissa tremble. "I won't leave you like this!"_

_Narcissa squeezed her eyes shut. "This was wonderful while it lasted," she began, forcing her voice to lose its emotion, "but we both knew it wouldn't go on forever."_

_James was silent for a long moment. "Sure seems like she left an impression on you," he said at last. Narcissa didn't need to ask to know that he was referring to her mother. He turned away from her. "If I walk away" —his voice was shaking— "I'm not coming back."_

_Narcissa nodded. She knew that. But this was what was best; she was protecting his reputation as well as hers. She was helping both of them, in the long run. Her family wouldn't target him in retaliation, and he wouldn't be in any more danger than he was already with the Dark Lord on the rise. In her mind, she was standing in front of him, arms out wide, shielding him from the potential danger._

_A Potter and a Black. It was a romance destined to fail, so she'd end it before the world could._

_He looked at her one last time, but she didn't stop him as he walked away._

* * *

She was standing next to Lucius, a small smile on her pink lips.

The time came for her to promise herself to him, for as long as she lived. She whispered them, and they tasted wrong, so wrong—if this was protection, then she was making a huge sacrifice.

As she kissed Lucius, she thought of James. He was out there, somewhere, without her.

He was free now, though. As was she. They were free from the pain their forbidden love would bring.

They were free from each other.

...but she still felt so trapped.

But when she looked into the audience, Druella was smiling. So Narcissa didn't protest.


End file.
